crumbling

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  Family. Such a  frail fragile thing It is a living ecosystem of aunts and uncles Mothers and Sons, daughters and their fathers. What becomes of this intricate unit when it is disturbed?
I feel like that. That pale greyish wisp of ash that crumbles beneath the slightest touch, That's been consumed by a ravenous fire that first caressed Then incinerated every fiber of it's being. I feel like that.
But I am lost   in a matter of seconds; I have left those clouds  
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